Silence
by Kilerya
Summary: FutureFic "You've been fighting again. It seems you're always fighting these days" the aftermath of a lover spat that could have been messy "Silence seems to be the way to stop an argument, you both have an awful way with words" .Warning some swearing but nothing real bad, mention of violence
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note Hi there's a couple of I'd like to say about this, it's set a few years after they graduate, they've been a couple for at least that long and moved in together a couple of years ago after Kanzaki got kicked out probably over his choice of lover...Himekawa works at his father's company and often ends up coming home at unholy hours, the story is from his point of view so if it seems a bit confused at times bear in mind he just met a wall head on ^^"**

**The second think I'd like to mention is I'm not used to write in english so any tips, critiques and other bits of advice are more than welcome =)**

**Hope you enjoy this as much as I've enjoyed writing it**

You've been fighting again. It seems you're always fighting these days, the same argument over and over again. You're never home he says, I'm not your god damned maid he says.

Thinking back on it you can't blame him, he's absolutely right.

In the heat of the argument though, after a long, stressful day at work you can't seem to think straight long enough to realise that. Hell you probably start at least half of those fights, picking on the most stupid things...

So angry words fly around and sometimes, sometimes fists do too. Tonight was one of those fights, where things got out of hand, it had to be one of the worst actually. You don't remember what started it, something stupid surely, but it wasn't your day and you went too far, said something about him getting off his lazy ass and get a fucking job already instead of just staying at home doing nothing except bitching like a damn woman. He didn't like that. He didn't like that _at all_, as soon as you realized what you said, you could have kicked yourself. He's trying, you _know _he's trying, and it can't be easy, he's got to be as far from being in his element as it's humanly possible here. If, a few years ago, someone told you that you'd have Kanzaki Hajime of all people playing the part of the stay at home lover you probably would have beaten some sense into them, or told them to get their heads checked at least.

As it happened, you didn't have the the time to beat yourself over it, he did it for you. And _fuck_ you forgot just how hard your lover can kick. You're pretty sure you got a concussion from where you hit the wall. The sound you made crashing into the wall seemed to snap him out of his rage and you could tell he already regretted hitting you, it wasn't the first nor would it be the last time either one of you got violent but he still felt guilty every single time. Kind of funny considering he's one of the most hot tempered people you know. Still you pushed him away when he tried to help you up and went to check the damage in the bathroom mirror.

And here you are, looking at your reflection and poking at the cut on your temple, barely noticing the sting through the throbbing of your head. You're bleeding on your suit but you can't bring yourself to care, busy as you are comptemplating your messed up relationship. You don't even hear him open the door and only realise he's here when you feel arms wrap around your waist and a head rest against your back. Neither of you say anything, you don't want to risk starting another fight. He just stands there, holding you, it takes you a minute to realise he's waiting for you to acknowledge him, he's expecting you to push him away again. He can be so damn insecure under all that bravado of his, it's almost cute really.

It takes you a few more minutes to decide on what to do, your head is still pounding and you're still bleeding on your clothes so you end up reaching for the first-aid kit and hand it to your lover, you can still see the guilt on his face as he starts treating the wound. He still doesn't talk and neither do you. You close your eyes and try to get your headache under control. You fail miserably so you decide to just concentrate on the hands on your face instead. The disinfectant stings but he's careful. Soon enough there's band aid covering your wounds and he starts cleaning the blood away. You keep your eyes closed and just _feel_, warm hands gently leading a slighty damp clothe down your throat and the side of your face. You tilt your head to give him better access, it's nice, really nice, you just might have to get hurt on purpose just to have him treat you like this again. Wait, that's crazy damn concussion messing with your mind. Still, crazy or not, you can't deny that this feels great, you let out a contented sigh. By the time he's done you can feel him leaning close and when you finally open your eyes his face is inches away from yours. It looks like he's about to kiss you. You hope he's about to kiss you. But he doesn't, he simply puts the first-aid kit away, grabs your hand and starts leading you out of the bathroom. You can't help but to think you've just been cheated out of a _moment_ somehow.

It's still complete silence when you reach the bedroom. You don't protest when he makes you sit down on the bed and starts undressing you. Your suit jacket is the first to go soon followed by your tie, he's completely focused on his task and doesn't look up at your face. This, is unusual, you can understand the silence and you're grateful for it, you don't need anything to make the pounding in your head any louder but you've never seen him so withdrawn before and this guilty expression that doesn't seem ready to leave his face...He's working on your shirt now, the cuff links get put away and the buttons come undone with practiced ease. As he slips the shirt from your shoulders you just want to shake him out of this weird funk and yell at him _It's not your fault you moron! I'm not mad I fucking deserved it !_ But the shirt falls with your dirty jacket and you just look at him move around in a daze_ look at me dammit!_

You get so caught up in your thoughts that you almost jump when you feel a touch against your leg. As you come back to reality you realise he's kneeling on the floor between your legs, he freezes when he feels you tense but still refuses to look up. As soon as you relax he gets back to taking your socks off, he's still being so uncharacteristically careful you start entertaining the idea of freaking out a little, sure you've been gentle with each other before, tender even though you both prefer the wilder side of life, but this is different, it doesn't feel _right_.

Any other day the idea of your lover on his knees reaching for your belt might have been appealing, now though, between your unholy headache and confusion toward his behaviour you couldn't get in the mood for that kind of stuff even if you tried, you still can't wrap your head around his guilt-induced actions and it ticks you off a little, so what he kicked you into a wall, compared to what you were up to in school it's hardly note worthy, no broken bones and you're pretty sure you'll be a lot better by morning so where the hell is this coming from ?

The answer hits you like a ton of bricks as you feel a hand on the collar of your undershirt and look up to his face. For a second he looks lost on a memory and the strange nostalgia you see makes something click. Oh. _OH_. There's a big difference between today's fight and what you two got up to in high school, you more or less hated each other's guts back then, everytime you ended up fighting you _wanted_ to crack the other's head open. Now on the other hand...no matter how rough you can be you don't know if you could live with yourself if you hurt each other like that.

Remembering the sickening sound you made against the wall you start to understand what has been going around in his head, he's scared to hurt you, just like he did so many times _before_ and you wouldn't be all that cool in his place either. You've spent so much time beating each other you know just how bad one of your fights could end up.

As you raise your arms to let him get your T-shirt off you wonder who you should be the most pissed off with, him for thinking you could go down so easily or yourself for not understanding the problem sooner. You settle for both and start cursing in your head. _Stupid Hajime and his fucking insecurities what the hell makes him think he can make you wrack your brain so hard about why he's acting so fucking weird after he just gave you a goddamn concussion?!_ It's not fair but it's your mind you can curse however you damn please thank you very much. You're about to keep on cursing when yet again, hands snap you out of your musings. They're slowly making their way down your chest to get to your only remaining piece of clothing, giving you plenty of time to stop them. You proceed to do just that which _finally_ startles their owner into looking you in the eye. The expression on his face still hasn't changed and that just annoys you even more. It must be showing because soon you can see confusion lurking in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak and you can just tell he's about to apologize and that just won't do, you just explained he shouldn't apologize...but you guess he wasn't privy to your little epiphany so he can't know that.

You consider explaining but words seem too complicated and they never end up coming out the right way anyway so you just end up yanking him up and kissing him. He tenses a bit at first but relaxes as soon as he realises kissing is all you have in mind. You try to convey all that went through your mind in that kiss and you think you succeeded well enough when you come up for air he doesn't look at you like he just killed your puppy so that has to be a good sign right? When it looks like he's about to talk you just kiss him again.

After the fifth time you have to come up for air you see a small smile on his face and understand he's pretending to try to speak on purpose. You just roll your eyes at that, it's not like you mind keeping him quiet. Looking him up and down you see he's still fully clothed, you deem that completely unfair and start tugging at his shirt, just because you don't plan on much more than cuddling right now doesn't mean you should be the only one almost naked here. He seems to get the idea quickly enough and undresses while you get under the covers. Soon enough he climbs into the bed with you and nestles in your arms with his head tucked under your chin. However as you feel sleep lurking around you can still see the cogs turning in your partner's head, you sigh and he looks up at you. Yep, still thinking too hard, you barely resist the urge to make a snide comment, _words are bad no more words tonight,_ and simply hold him close and start petting his hair. It doesn't take long after that for him to fall asleep and even less for you to follow.

***the next morning***

You wake up to an empty bed. It takes you a moment to remember what happened last night and you can hardly believe how messed up you head was. Fortunately it doesn't seem to be hurting as much today. You look around for your missing bedmate and find a note on his side of the bed, curious you pick it up :

_Hey there sleeping beauty went out for a bit to get some yogurt._

_I'd like to apologize for almost cracking your head open but I feel more sorry for the wall..._

_If you get your lazy ass out of bed before I get back there's some breakfast in the kitchen with a nice bottle of painkillers on the side_

_Try not to drop dead while I'm out, love ya you bastard, you're a lot more tolerable when you don't talk_

You can't help but chuckle at this. Nice to know he's feeling better too.

As you hunt down your breakfast you consider last night's events once again and think silence seems to be the way to stop an argument, you both have an awful way with words . When you get to the kitchen you're smirking, you'll just have to contemplate the best ways to get your partner to understand that.

The end


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:Silence from Kanzaki's point of view, I can't believe I forgot to thank the lovely Skypeach from dA for the inspiration...well I'm doing it now thanks ! ****I'd also like to thank Maiks-heart for the review I'm glad you liked it =) **

**I'm going to start working on a series of one shots based around their relationship if anyone is interested...Once again I'd be happy to get some reviews, hope you like it !**

You've been fighting again. It seems you're always fighting this days, stupid stuff really, you're not even sure who or what started it this time.

Not that it matters, it always comes back to the same thing anyway. You complaining he's never home and him being a damn nit-picker.

So you get pissed off tell him you're not his god damned maid and why doesn't he take care of it himself for a change since you don't seem to do anything "right". But of course he wouldn't he never _had_ to do anything even close to housework before why start now... You're ranting, it's stupid and completely pointless. You can see him getting angrier by the second and you know today is going to be one of those days where one or both of you end up with fist-sized bruises at the very least.

You don't expect him to mention to mention work and how you should get some, as much as you'd like to explain how much of an hypocritical fuck he can be you don't get the chance. You've never really could control your temper. You think you see him mentally beat himself before your kick connects and he flies into the nearest wall but you're not sure. You regret it all the same at the sickening crack you hear when his head connects with the wall. There's a few horrifying seconds during which he doesn't move and all you can hear is_ that sound _over and over again. You go check on him anger forgotten in the shadows of the fear to have hurt your lover far worse than you have in years, since you started the whole relationship thing...You notice blood seeping from a nasty looking cut on the side of his head as you go check on him but he pushes you away when you try to get him up. Can't be that bad then. He makes his way to the bathroom and you don't follow, better to let you both cool down a bit.

You sit down against the wall and try to get yourself under control. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. The coppery scent of blood in the air doesn't help but you manage to calm down a bit. You don't feel like taking your frustration out on the first thing you see anymore but you're still royally ticked off. He may make a big out of it now but even if you did get a job he'd just complain more about the housework like he did the last time, as if you'd have the time to take care of such a big place with work to worry about too. You've gained a whole new level of respect for housewifes and single mothers since you moved in, not that you'll ever admit it of course. Even if you did look for another job he never let's you pay for anything if he can help it, another quirk of his you suppose but an annoying one, might as well keep what you earn he said, just in case. It makes sense but you don't like the thought, as if your living arrangements were just temporary and he expected you to leave at the first opportunity. What scares you is that you thought about it, maybe it would make things easier, you didn't fight so often _before_...No, no matter how much you dislike the pointless arguments or having to do stuff like housework you would never leave this place -leave_ him_- willingly.

This train of thought is way too depressing for you so you decide to go see what your lover is up to, hopefully he calmed down enough to let you take a look at his wound. You have to use all of your willpower to resist the urge to facepalm at what you find in the bathroom. There he is, standing in front of the mirror and poking at the cut with something resembling childish amazement, he's so lost in his own world he didn't even hear you enter. As you don't want to startle him back to reality, he can get testy when he's surprised, you try to get close as quietly as possible and sneak your arms around his waist. He only realize you're there when you rest your head against his back, he tenses a bit at first but quickly relaxes in the embrace. You don't say a word as they don't seem to do much good tonight and wait for him to do something, you expect him to push you away again. He doesn't. It takes a few minutes for him to decide what to do, you don't mind keeping on holding him as long as you can but you'd like to get that wound properly treated and the bedroom would be a more comfortable place for cuddles anyway.

Soon enough he breaks free of your hold and starts looking for something. He hands you the first aid kit and you get to work. For the amount blood that found its way on his clothes the cut is not that bad, it doesn't even need stitches. He closes his eyes almost right after you start cleaning the injury and his breathing even out, he doesn't even flinch at the disinfectant. The silence is a lot less awkward than you expected, whatever he's been thinking about it seems to be as far away from your fight as possible, must be nice to be able to let it all go for once. Does he even realize how bad this could have been ? You bit back a sigh as you start washing the blood away, refusing to go back to your guilt induced musings, you don't succeed all that well and decide to focus on the task at hand instead. You make long careful strokes down the side of his face and his throat, he tilts his head and let out a contented sigh. You pull his collar away and lean in close to make sure you didn't miss any trace.

You're still leaning over him when he opens his eyes. You entertain the idea of kissing him for a second but give it up quickly, as nice as "making up" sounds he's too out of it for anything right now, it doesn't seem right to do anything else than take care of him after you almost cracked his head open. He's pouting when you put the first aid kit away and you have to fight a smile as you lead him to the bedroom. Leave it to him to get cute on you at a time like this.

He still doesn't say a thing when you start undressing him which is unusual, he always liked hearing himself talk. His jacket comes off and next his tie does too. The bloodstains make you feel guilty all over again, you try to focus on what you're doing and not the person you're undressing. His eyes are following you or attempting to at least, you're pretty sure he gets lost in thought again by the time you discard his shirt and get on the floor to get his socks off. He tenses and you freeze instinctively, you still expects him to lash out, he can be unpredictable when he's injured. He relaxes and you keep going, you don't bother looking up, he's probably back to the trip in his own head anyway.

As you work his belt open you sneak a glance at him only to see him looking back at, no _through_ you. Thinking so hard can't be good for his head, even on a good day, you wonder what he's thinking about, knowing him it can be anything from work to kittens. You toss the pants with the rest of his clothes and when you get back up to get his T-shirt off something catch your eye near the collar. It's a scar, the last one you gave him. You run your fingers along the thin line, thinking back on that fight.

It shouldn't have been a remarkable day. You ran into each other a couple of weeks after graduation, you argued as always and you fought,as always, that time though no one else was there to stop you from merrily ripping each other to shreds. It lasted for a while, both of you concentrating only on each other, no interruption, no distraction. He ended up falling through a wire fence, hissing as a loose wire cut through the skin of his neck just deep enough to leave a scar. he tripped you and you fell on top of him, you don't remember who started the kiss. Half an hour later you were stumbling in a room of the nearest love hotel you could find. The morning after had been awkward as all hell.

You snap back to the present, he seemed to be in the middle of an epiphany and doesn't realize the pause. You get his shirt off and thoughtlessly start tracing lines down his chest while you wonder if you should get rid of his underwear too, you both usually sleep in the nude but that's mostly because it would be too much of a hassle to get clothes back on... You get startled enough to look up at his face when he grabs your wrists and a bit confused when you see him get frustrated for no apparent reason. What did you do this time ? Maybe he just realized you almost cracked his head open. You consider apologizing but you don't the time to get a word in as he yanks you toward him, you instinctively tense but relax quickly when kissing is the only thing on the program.

It's kind of strange, as if he's trying to pour every single thing he's feeling into that kiss. Frustration and confusion mixing with love and something resembling forgiveness when you come up for air you look at him in disbelief _screw you, you asked for it _you think, somehow that seems to be his point. You're about to start cursing at him out of habit but he's kissing you again, and again, and again everytime you act like you're about to talk. By the time he understands you're doing it on purpose you're trying -and failing- to contain a smile, it took him longer than you thought but you're not about to complain. He rolls his eyes at your antics, gives you a once over and decide you wear too many clothes. He tries to get your shirt off but gives up after a few moments and let you undress on your own, preferring to make himself comfortable in your bed. You join him soon after tuck yourself in his arms, your mind still reeling from the night's events.

You look up when he lets out a slightly annoyed sigh and you can tell he's trying very hard not to make some smart ass comment. He gathers you close instead and starts petting your hair, you fall asleep soon after.

***the next morning***

You wake up first and just wish you could go back to sleep or stay in bed all day,it's nice here all warm and stuff .The alarm clock didn't even ring yet why the hell are you awake? Your stomach reclaims food that's why, you completely forgot about dinner last night and it's not happy with you, nope not happy with you at all. You snuggle closer to your partner, breakfast can wait for a while... Or maybe it can't, you try to untangle yourself from your lover without waking him, with the crazy hours he's pulling he can probably use the sleep, and take a good look at him. He seems fine enough, if you don't take notice of the massive bruise on the side of his head.

You make a point to leave painkillers next to his breakfast, he'll probably need them. He's still not up when you decide to make a trip to the store so you leave him a note.

_Hey there sleeping beauty went out for a bit to get some yogurt._

_I'd like to apologize for almost cracking your head open but I feel more sorry for the wall..._

_If you get your lazy ass out of bed before I get back there's some breakfast in the kitchen with a nice bottle of painkillers on the side_

_Try not to drop dead while I'm out, love ya you bastard, you're a lot more tolerable when you don't talk_

As you make your way down the street you can't help but think you should try the silence thing more often, words never were your thing anyway. You just hope he doesn't take the hint as an invitation to leave sticky notes everywhere again.

The end


End file.
